


Hollow heroes separate

by Builder



Series: Whoa Bessie [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Sickfic, Trans Steve Rogers, War Veteran Bucky Barnes, whoa bessie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 18:19:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14774751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Builder/pseuds/Builder
Summary: Bucky can't hold his feelings in anymore.  It all comes pouring out in screams and yells and tears.  He's finished.But Steve isn't.





	Hollow heroes separate

**Author's Note:**

> A fic I wrote just for me! But I have to say thank you to Cat for encouraging me to write it. 
> 
> Find me on tumblr @builder051

Bucky’s been quiet ever since they got on the metro.  He’s completely silent for the car ride home, and by the time Steve opens the door to the apartment, his mouth is set in a frown.  Steve knows none of it bodes well.  

“Ok,” he murmurs, locking the door and toeing off his shoes.  “How are you feeling?”

Bucky stands beside the coat rack, almost as still, save the tremor going in his fingers.  He catches Steve looking and hastily shoves his hand into his pocket.  “Fine,” he mumbles.

“It’s ok,” Steve reminds him.  “We’re home.  Are you hungry?”

“I…no, I’m…”  Steve watches his fist clench through the fabric of his jeans.  

“Alright,” he says gently.  “How about just taking off your shoes and sitting down?  It’s been a long day.  We could both probably use a rest.”  Steve means it sincerely.  The dark shadows under Bucky’s eyes betray his exhaustion.  He’s been up with nightmares most of the week, and Steve would suggest a nap if he thought Bucky would actually take one.

“I don’t…” Bucky trails off with a groan.  He pulls his hand out of his pocket and scrubs it up the side of his face, then yanks his fingers through his hair.  “I don’t know.  I don’t fucking know.”

“Try to explain it to me, Buck,” Steve pleads.  “Did you see something while we were out?  Do you remember something?”

“I don’t know, Steve,” Bucky says, his volume rising.  The tremor seems to be moving up his arm.  There’s sweat glistening on his forehead and a muscle twitching in his jaw.

“Hey, just…take a breath.  It’s ok.”

“Yes, it’s ok!” Bucky yells.  “Stop acting like it’s not!”

“Buck—”

“No.  No, stop.”  Spit flies from Bucky’s mouth as he spits the words.  “Stop fucking asking me.  I’m fine.  I’m just…I’m fucking sick of this.”  Bucky’s lip quivers.  He’s on the verge of tears, and it makes Steve’s heart form a lump in his throat.

“Bucky.  Come on.  It’s ok,” he whispers.  “You’re tired.”

“Yeah, I’m fucking tired.”  Bucky laughs humorlessly.  “Tired of…of all this.”  He looks down at his shaking hand.  I don’t like this.  I don’t sleep, and I don’t know why.  I remember things, and I don’t know what they are.  I don’t…I don’t feel good, but I don’t know how.  Something in me is all fucked up, and I don ‘t know what it is!”  The shout breaks off into a sob.  “I’m supposed to be getting better,” he sputters.  

Steve reaches for his shoulder.  He needs to wrap Bucky in his arms and hold him close.  He needs to ground him.  To tell him it’s ok and really mean it this time.  To somehow make him understand that no matter how bad he feels, Steve doesn’t mind.  Even if he breaks with his face buried in Steve’s collarbones, he’ll lovingly piece him back together, every single time.

Bucky takes a step back.  There’s a hollow thump as he hits his head against the wall.  

“Just breathe, Buck, ok?”  Steve hovers his hand an inch from Bucky’s arm.  

“God.  I’m trying.”  Bucky slams his head into the wall again.  Steve winces.

“Please don’t hurt yourself,” Steve says quietly.  “It’s ok if you’re having a hard time.  You are getting better.  Ups and downs are just part of the process.  I know that.  And I’m ok with that.”

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Bucky sobs.  He swipes his clenched fist under his eyes with enough force to make his dark circles pink and irritated.  

“I know, Buck.  And I’m sorry.  It’s been a hard day.”  Steve presses his palm to Bucky’s bicep.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Take a breath,” Steve tries again.  “Come on.  Breathe in.  Hold it for a second.”

“Steve—”  Bucky cuts out with another gasping sob.

“You’re safe.”

“No, stop!”  Bucky flails and backs into the corner.  The coat rack falls to the ground with a crash, and Bucky flinches violently, throwing his arm around his head.  He starts to lose his balance, and Steve can’t help but reach out and grab him around the chest to keep him from hitting the ground.  

“You’re safe, Buck,” he murmurs, sinking to his knees as Bucky’s face slides down his chest.  “You’re safe.  I promise.”

“No…”

“Yes,” Steve says firmly.  “You’re in our apartment.  You’re with me.  You knocked over the coat rack.  Nothing is going to hurt you.”   _Not even you_ , Steve thinks.   _I’m not going to let that happen._

Bucky sobs for a few minutes.  Then shudders.  And finally, he breathes evenly.  

“It’s ok, Buck,” Steve says again, though the words feel new this time.  As if he hasn’t repeated them a dozen times already.  “You’re tired.  You’re hungry, though you probably don’t feel like it.  I know you don’t feel well.  You don’t have to pretend like you do.”

“But…” Bucky whispers.

“Shh.  I know.”

“But I’m ok, Steve.”

“I know,” Steve murmurs.  “You are.  I know.”


End file.
